He likes the feeling of responsibility it gives him, but it’s still a poor substitute for going south with his father. He should have been on that trip instead of that idiot Rick. He understands why his father left him behind, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.
He is stewing over this when Ginny walks into the living room of the house where they’re staying.
“Sorry,” she says. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“It’s okay,” he tells her.
She walks over and joins him on the couch that has been turned toward the window.
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” she says.
“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t want to talk about it.
“I wish your dad hadn’t taken Rick.”
“Uh-huh.” He really doesn’t want to talk about that.
She must sense his reluctance, because she says nothing for several minutes. When she finally talks again, she says, “It’s never going to be the same again, is it?”
She could mean a million different things, and probably does. “No. Not like it used to be.”
“So what is it going to be like?”
He shrugs. How the heck is he supposed to know that? But he realizes that’s not what she needs to hear. “It’ll be different, I guess. But someday it’s going to be good. You’ll be happy.”
“I’m not sure I can ever be happy again.”
He wants to promise she will be, but knows she will see right through him. So he focuses on the street, and says nothing.
When Ginny falls asleep fifteen minutes later, she slumps to the side, her head falling against Brandon’s shoulder. He thinks maybe he should move it, but it feels good there, makes him feel like he’s not the only person in the world.
Makes him feel like he’s doing good.
Ash instructs Hiller to drive the car to within a couple hundred yards of the warehouse. Though much of the structure is in flames, he can see the similarities between this building and the one in Oregon, and knows without question it belongs to Project Eden.
They grab their gear out of the back — weapons, rope, crowbars, wire cutters, and the like. Hiller pulls out a bag of gas masks and gives one to each of them.
“It could get smoky. These aren’t perfect, but they’re all we’ve got.”
Ash dons the mask, and throws a coil of rope over his shoulder before heading as quickly as he can toward the building.
He is still a good distance away when a man, also wearing a gas mask, appears on the bank of an arroyo that runs near the building. Ash raises his gun, but then notices the limp and lowers his weapon.
“Matt?” he yells.
The man does not seem to hear him, so Ash pulls the mask off his face.
“Matt!”
The limping man stops, looks in Ash’s direction, and falls to his knees.
As Ash rushes over, Matt rolls onto his hip and lies back in the snow.
“Hey,” Ash says. “You okay?”
He drops down next to Matt and pulls off his friend’s mask. There is pain in the man’s face, and his eyes are closed.
“Matt, can you hear me?”
The only reaction is a wince.
“Matt!”
It takes but a second for Ash to discover that Matt’s shirt is soaked with blood. He rips it open, and in the flickering light of the fire sees a bullet hole in his friend’s abdomen. He feels around the back, finds a hole where the bullet exited that’s three times as large as the entry point.
Applying pressure to the wounds, he looks around until he spots Chloe. “Over here! Over here!” Once he’s sure she’s seen him, he focuses on Matt again. “You’re going to be fine. Hang in there.”
Matt’s eyes flutter. “You…” he says.
“Quiet. Save your strength.”
“No, you…”
Ash hears the sound of running feet approaching from behind him.
“What is it?” Chloe shouts. “Is that…Matt?”
“Get the first-aid kit!” he tells her. “And have Hiller or Lin call the others in. We need the doctor and Lily here now!”
Chloe runs back toward the car.
“Ash,” Matt whispers.
“Don’t try to talk.”
Matt’s eyelids part a fraction of an inch. “Augustine…green..sky.” Each word hitches a ride on a different breath.
“What?”
“You…need to…know…”
“Augustine green sky?”
“Dream,” Matt corrects him. “Dream sky.”
“Augustine dream sky.” As Ash says this, he sees some of the stress in Matt’s face melt away.
“Yes,” Matt whispers, his eyes closing again.
“What’s it mean?”
Matt whispers again, but his voice is now too low to hear no matter how close Ash moves in.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ash says. “Don’t worry about anything. It’s going to be fine.”
But he knows it’s not going to be fine, and before Chloe can return with the first-aid kit, he watches helplessly as the man who founded the Resistance takes his last breath.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brett Battles is the Barry Award-winning author of nineteen novels, including the Jonathan Quinn series, the Logan Harper series, and the Project Eden series. You can learn more at his website: brettbattles.com